A Means to an End, A Means to a Beginning
by Spittlebug
Summary: Rorschach is dead. But another dimension needs a hero, and the vigilante is given a final chance in a new world with new surprises...
1. The End and The Beginning

**Author's Note: This is a SERIOUS fic, and I promise that the next few chapters will be longer. Enjoy!**

Chapter 1: Only the Beginning

There was his warm breath fogging the Arctic air, his face exposed – his true face.

And he begged for the being to end his life. There was no way out and he refused to surrender. "DO IT!" he yelled.

The finger pointed and Rorschach felt his body being ripped apart, unimaginable agony burning his body…

And then it was over.

He was gone, only his hat and a smear of blood staining the pure white snow.

Rorschach was suspended in an expanding whiteness. He wondered if perhaps he was still in Antarctica, if Doctor Manhattan had spared his life.

He knew that this was the end, though. How could it not be? But there was no God, so why was he here? There was only life, and death, and cruelty, and glimmers of kindness here and there, like a ruby in a pile of fool's gold. There was no God that watched over the world, only death and pain. Life had taught him that much.

As Rorschach was thinking, Doctor Manhattan arrived out of thin air. Underneath his mask, he blinked several times. He was surprised, but not shocked. After all, he was dead. What couldn't happen when you were dead, of all things? He waited for the blue being to speak.

"Rorschach," Dr. Manhattan finally said, breaking the deathly silence. He saw that the vigilante did not look as shocked as, say, Laurie would have. The blue superhuman regretted what he had done to Rorschach, but it had been necessary – no one could have prevented what Veidt had done, but telling everyone what had happened would just make things worse. Jon was done with the human race, for now and for ever. But he had to do something for Rorschach. It was only right.

He saw the vigilante waiting patiently and knew that he had to begin. "Rorschach," he said again, "you are dead. I killed you in the snow to prevent worse happenings."

"Know this," Rorschach said in his raspy voice. "Also know that it was necessary, in your perspective."

Dr. Manhattan smiled sadly. "It was," he admitted. "But milliseconds before I killed you, I transported your soul to this place." He spread open his arms. "Time has no meaning here."

"Hurm, interesting," the other commented, rubbing his chin with his hand. So he was not in fact dead. Jon could be so confusing sometimes…

Dr. Manhattan blinked his eyes, a longing look on his face. "Rorschach, your world has moved on. It has already forgotten about you and soon it will forget about me." Jon looked away, turning his body so that his back faced the vigilante. "I can show you hat Dan Dreiberg and Laurie were doing while I killed you in the snow, if you like."

Rorschach's eyes widened underneath his mask. Could Jon actually show him this – and if so, would he want to see it? The vigilante knew that it was against his better judgment, knew that he just get hurt again. But as always, his curiosity got the best of him. He nodded.

Dr. Manhattan waved a hand, and an image, almost holographic in manner, appeared in the air. The colors were faded and the figures were distorted, but Rorschach could still see it. Still see his only friend sleeping on the floor with Laurie, covered in his Snow Owl suit. Not caring, not wondering, not wanting to know…about him.

Rorschach reached out to touch the image, only distorting it. "Daniel…" he said quietly. Had all those nighttime raids, all those times together, meant nothing? Daniel had been one person he had trusted. Not entirely, but more than anyone that he could think.

He vaguely remembered something he had said to Daniel when he had started his investigation involving the Comedian. Daniel had said, "Yeah, what happened to those times, Rorschach?"

He had walked through the tunnel, not looking back. "You quit."

Yes, Daniel had quit. He had quit for good this time.

Quit on him.

Dr. Manhattan sighed. He turned around, facing the vigilante again. "Dan and Laurie changed their names, got married. They still live in Manhattan. They still fight crime." He paused. "I am happy for them."

Rorschach thought that Jon didn't look happy, but he didn't mention it. "The newspaper received your journals and an article was published. The world has not blinked an eye at your final act. Viedt was questioned, but he denied all accusations." He smiled a little. "But perhaps the trust is gone among the people. I cannot say. It is not my problem any longer."

Rorschach shrugged. It really wasn't his problem anymore either – after all, he was dead now. As hard as he had tried to protect the innocent when no one cared, he had failed. He blinked, looking at the palm of his hand. And now…now what?

"I have decided to give you one more chance at life. There is a dimension I have discovered, a dimension in which superheroes are more common and are not ridiculed or frowned upon. This is where I will take you. You will make more of a difference there then you ever have."

Rorschach was angry now. Dr. Manhattan had killed him. What right did he have to make him go through more hardships, more pain, more fighting futilely? "No!" he yelled. "Cannot do anymore. Have played my part. There is nothing else." The vigilante began to walk away.

"You are needed. Your expertise is needed. And I owe it to you," Dr. Manhattan said to Rorschach's retreating figure. He raised a finger, and the twisted figure of a man that had been killed during his last stand saw a bright globe of light, enveloping his figure, his being, blinding his retinas. Rorschach felt himself falling…and then there was nothing.


	2. Wolverine

**Author's Note****: I am very satisfied with this story already and I am glad that other people are enjoying it also. Thanks go out to MadHat886 for reviewing and putting this story on Story Alerts, GrizzlyBUR for adding Story Alert, and to the anonymous reviewer. Thanks again everybody! And now, the second chapter…**

Chapter Two: Wolverine

The X-Man named Wolverine sipped hot coffee out of a thermos as he sat outside in a camping chair. A fire crackled and popped beside him. The cool night wind rippled through his hair, and he looked up toward the sky. Thousands of stars twinkled in the pitch black night sky.

_Lots of stars out tonight_, Logan thought. He got up from the chair and leaned against the small camper he had rented. Wolverine thought about the other X-Men back home in Salem Center. He thought of Hank. He could still remember, a week ago, when it had happened.

Logan had come to Beast's small condo to check up on him. Xavier was worried that something had happened to the blue mutant, and had asked Wolverine to see if anything was wrong.

Wolverine walked up the front steps of the house. "Hank?" he called out. The door was ajar. He walked in quietly.

He searched the rooms thoroughly, but could not find Beast. Where could he possibly be? _Maybe the professor is right,_ Wolverine thought. _Maybe that furball _**is**_ in trouble._

He finally peeked around a corner to see Beast crumpled in a heap on the floor. A knife was stuck up in his back. Blood pooled around Hank's body.

Wolverine was shocked. It had to have been another mutant who had attacked his fellow X-Man. Hank was very skilled in hand-to-hand combat; so it must have been a mutant of equal strength.

Beast reached out a hand from where he lay. "Logan…" he croaked weakly.

Logan instinctively popped out his claws. "Who did this, Hank? Who did this to you?" he growled.

Hank sighed. "I don't know… he did tell me his name…he was very proud of what he had done. I think he said that his name was Lupina…Alex Lupina…" Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he didn't speak anymore.

Wolverine let out a breath as he thought about hank. His friend had been severely injured and had not been conscious since Logan had saved him at the condo, dragging Hank's body to his motorcycle and speeding back to the X-Mansion. Of course, he'd gotten a citation in the process, but Charles had taken care of it. Good ol' Charles…

He picked up a twig and began twirling it in his hands. He thought back again, remembering how he had ended up in Texas, of all places.

He'd met with Xavier in his office. "Well, Logan," the professor began, "I searched for this 'Alex Lupina' in Cerebro. It seems that he is a mutant of some sort, obviously an assassin. I believe that the reason Hank was attacked has something to do with the research that he was doing."

"Research? What was he working on?"

"Hank was working on a weapon, a prototype actually. It harnesses the innate power of a mutant and discharges it as powerful energy."

"So, what happened to it, Professor?"

"Oh, the prototype is fine, but the blueprints were stolen, apparently by this same assassin. By the way, I attempted to find this Alex Lupina, but unfortunately, there is a problem with Cerebro. I tracked him to Austin, Texas before Cerebro shut down."

Wolverine stood up. "Well, that's it, then. Looks like I'm goin' to Texas."

Xavier looked up, startled. "Logan, you can't possibly do this. You don't even know what this man looks like!"

"I can, and I will. I will find that and make him pay for what he did to Hank."

Storm had tried to talk him out of it, too. "Logan," she had said, coming into his room, where he was packing an overnight bag. "Logan, isn't this a little rash? I mean, you could wait until Cerebro is fixed. Then we could have an exact location…"

Wolverine held up a hand, not even looking up from his packing. "And by then, this assassin could have made a protype and sold it to the Brotherhood. I'm not lettin' that happen, Storm. 'Sides, I think I need to get away from the team for a little while. Let out pent energy, y'know?"

Storm just shook her head. "Well, I'm not going to try and dissuade you any longer. But, just be careful, okay, Logan?"

Logan looked up at Storm. "You know that I will."

So here he was, a week or so later, camping alongside an Austin freeway. He still hadn't made any progress so far. Detective work was really Wolverine's thing. But he had insisted on going, and now…he wasn't really sure that it was the greatest idea.

Logan sighed, throwing down the stick he had been twirling. It wouldn't help to stay up all night and mope about. He needed to get some sleep; after all, he did have plans for the morning.

The troubled X-Man was just about to ascend into the camper when he saw a shimmer of light on the freeway. _What the hell…_ Wolverine watched as a person materialized right onto the highway. _Okay, this is really_ not _my thing_, he thought. Logan watched as the person stood stock-still as a large truck headed right toward him. _Oh, shit – he's going to get mowed down!_ He popped out his claws and sprinted toward the man.

Wolverine felt the blinding headlights directed at him and heard the beeping of the truck as he pushed the other man out of the way.

And felt the crunch of his bones as he got run over instead.

Rorschach looked up at the milky black sky scattered with stars anf then at the body of the stranger who had saved him.

_Hurm,_ Rorschach thought. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, noting that he at least still had his face on. That was a relief. But still… Dr. Manhattan had transported him right in front of a moving truck on a freeway. Quite a bad sense of judgment on his part.

Now the question was: what to do with the body? He was of course grateful to the man for saving him, but it didn't really matter anyhow. Rorschach wondered where exactly he would drag the body to. He moved to begin pulling the body…when the body moved.

Wolverine stirred on the pavement of the freeway. He opened his blood-caked eyes, looking at the ground in front of him. He could feel that his ribs were cracked and both of his femurs were broken, but they were healing themselves even as he thought of this. He knew that his bones were knitting themselves together and his cuts were closing rapidly, but he still couldn't get up. He had to, though – or another car would hit him. Wolverine heard footsteps. "Hey," he yelled. "Drag me." When there was no answer, he yelled louder. "Drag me, dammit!" The person above him obliged quickly. By the time the other person had dragged him across the freeway, Logan felt that he was strong enough to walk. He got up, a little wobbly on his legs. He limped toward the punk he had saved, the person who had materialized out of thin air. It was a man; tall, lanky, with a tan trenchcoat and a fedora. He wore a black-and-white mask and purple gloves.

"Who the hell are you?" Wolverine asked. The man held out a hand.

"Rorschach," he said.

"Raw shark – what? Aw, just forget it. Why don't you come to my camper so we can talk?"

The stranger lowered his hand and followed Logan across the freeway as the sky began to lighten, signaling the coming of dawn.

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	3. Getting to Know You

Wolverine entered the camper and Rorschach followed behind him. Logan opened the door of his fridge, grabbing a beer. "Help yourself," he said.

"Don't drink," Rorschach said. He began raiding Logan's cupboards.

"Now I need some answers, bub, and I need 'em fast. How did you materialize out of …"

Rorschach cut him off. "Would prefer not to discuss that right now."

"But how…"

"Would prefer not to discuss that right now," Rorschach repeated, louder this time. He closed the cupboard door. "Hurm. Sugar, but no sugar cubes."

Logan sighed. It looked like he wasn't going to get any answers. "Fine. And no, I don't have any sugar cubes, if you're asking."

Rorschach picked up the newspaper sitting on the table, The Austin Star. "We're in Texas," he stated flatly.

"Yes, this is Texas. Austin, actually." Wolverine watched his visitor note the date on the paper and set it aside. Rorschach checked the other newspaper, The New York Post. He looked up at Wolverine with that unreadable mask of his. "You're from New York?"

"Well, no. I'm actually Canadian…" Logan stopped himself. "Hey!" He got into Rorschach's face. "Look, bub, this is MY camper, and I just saved your sorry life out there. I've got better things to do than answer your questions!" Besides, I should be askin' the questions, not you."

"Can't tell you much about myself," the masked fellow insisted cryptically, shifting in his trenchcoat.

Logan sighed defeatedly. "Then why don't you just get out of my camper and go back to wherever you came from, then? I think that would be the best idea for both of us right now. 'Cus I'm getting angry and that's one state you don't want to see me in."

"Cannot tell you about myself," Rorschach repeated. "But, willing to help you if you don't ask questions."

"How do you know I'd need your help anyway?" Wolverine shot back. But even as he said it, he knew that he _did_ need help – help that perhaps this obvious nutjob could provide.

"Alright, maybe I _do _need some help. But the only reason I'm agreeing to this is so I can find out more about _you._"

"We're not asking questions."

"Riiiight. Listen, why don't you get some sleep or something? It's almost morning, but we should be able to get a few hours in. I'll tell you everything you need to know then."

Rorschach said nothing but went in the next room.

_I'm probably going to regret this,_ Logan thought bitterly.

_Rorschach's Journal: October 1__st__, 2005_

_Cannot sleep. The cars are too noisy on the freeway. Can see their headlights from the freeway._

_According to Doctor Manhattan, this is a different realm. Was saved by a stranger who is messy and short-tempered. Not anything at all like Daniel. Can see the darkness in his eyes. Have agreed to help him with a yet-unknown mission._

_Wonder what this new world is like. More superheroes? Am somehow in Texas. Is this all Manhattan's plan? Only time will tell. _

_Hear other person getting up. Will have to leave now._

Rorschach closed the journal that he had discovered in his trenchcoat just as Wolverine walked into the 'living room.' "Couldn't sleep?" he asked.

"No." The masked vigilante slipped the notebook into his pocket and stood up. The two heroes sat down at the kitchen table and Wolverine began talking about all the events that had led up to him getting in Texas: Beast getting attacked; the assassin, and the prototype.

A few minutes later, Logan finished up his story. "So I arrived here a few days ago. I've tried getting info on this assassin, but this thing is not something I'm very good at. Whaddaya think about helpin' me out, bub?"

"Willing to help you," Rorschach said underneath his mask. "Have nothing better to do." He paused a minute before adding, "But have one question: What is a mutant?"

Logan, who had just taken a large chug of coffee, promptly sprayed it all over the table. "WHAT?" he asked incredulously. "Do you SERIOUSLY not know what a mutant is? Have you been living under a rock your whole life?"

Rorschach said nothing but simply stared at Logan. Wolverine was especially unnerved by this because he could not see the other man's eyes. _I wonder what that bastard looks like underneath that crazy mask of his, _he thought to himself.

After several minutes of a staring stalemate, Wolverine spoke up. "Fine," he said haughtily. "A mutant, or Homo Sapiens Superior, is a person who has a glitch in their DNA. This glitch gives the person special powers, powers that a normal human would not have. Like me, for example. I have these things," he said, popping out his claws to show Rorschach. The adamantium-coated claws glinted in the dull overhead light. "And this." Wolverine pulled up his t-shirt sleeve, and, claws still out, slashed his arm. Rorschach watched as the deep cuts began to heal themselves before his eyes. A few seconds later, there was no indication that the cuts had even been there.

"Hurm," the masked vigilante thought aloud. "That is why the truck did not kill you."

"Yeah," Wolverine admitted. "So that's what a mutant is. There is a select group of us that fight together if problems arise. We're called the X-Men. And I'm one of 'em," he added proudly.

"X-Men," Rorschach said dryly. "Got it."

"Well, just so you know, mutants aren't always looked too kindly upon. We've been persecuted, belittled, and all sorts of nice stuff like that. But most people just accept our existence now. I mean, what are they gonna do about it? We're more powerful than them, and they know it." Logan folded his arms. "There's your lesson on Mutants 101, bub. Any questions?"

"These mutants," Rorschach said. "What other powers do they have?"

Wolverine shrugged. "All kinds. Jeannie has telekinetic and psychic powers. Good ol' Cyclops can shoot laser beams form his eyes." The X-Man laughed. "And don't even get me started on Kurt." He lowered his eyes slightly. "Seriously, though, the assassin we have to find – he's a mutant, too, so we'd better watch our backs.

"Also, that prototype I was talkin' about? It's very dangerous. According to the Professor, it somehow channels a mutant's abilities and releases it as a powerful energy. We know – I know – what I'm up against. So this is what has to be done."

"Who is the Professor?" Rorschach asked abruptly.

"Aw, he's Charles Xavier. Head of us X-Men. Great guy. Helped me out of a lot of troubles lots of times."

"Hurm…" Both of them got up and walked out of the camper. "How are we going to go about this?"

Wolverine led Rorschach around back, his large boots shifting the sands along the Austin freeway.

A large motorcycle sat alongside the wall of the mobile home. Apart from being a member of the X-Men, this was one thing that Logan prided himself on. He had spent so many hours perfecting the detailing, messing with the engine…This motorcycle was a symbol of the hard work and dedication he put forth in everything he did. He stuck the key in the ignition and the motorbike roared to life. "Let's ride," Logan grinned wildly.

As he watched Wolverine grin ecstatically, Rorschach was remembering the last time his last encounter with a motorcycle…

_He was eight years old again, no longer hardened against the cruelty of the world. He was no longer Rorschach, but Walter Kovacs again…_

_He watched as a teen he admired drove by on his big black shiny motorcycle. Walter wondered what it would be like to ride on one – ride far away from everything, from his mother, from the bullies at school, everything. And just be free._

_Freedom was all that he ever wanted. That, and friendship._

_The older boy, whose name was Tommy, noticed Walter admiring his bike. "Hey, kid," he said, smiling. "Do you want to ride my bike with me?"_

_Walter smiled internally. Here was a chance at both friendship and freedom! He gratefully scrambled onto the back of the bike and Tommy started up the engine. The teenager drove around the block a few times. And Walter felt the wind ripple through his hair and tickle his face. He took deep breaths. This was so exhilarating!_

_In those few moments, he had both freedom and friendship in his grasp._

_Walter had wanted to live in those moments forever._

_They had stopped at a red light, and as they turned, Tommy flipped around to look at Walter. "Having fun, you moronic little kid?" he asked, grinning maliciously. He stepped on the gas and kicked Walter off the motorcycle._

_Walter didn't have time to yell as he hit the ground and rolled over several times on the burning black asphalt. He watched Tommy drive away yelling, "Stupid little runt!" and laughing._

_stupid little runt stupid little runt stupid little runt_

Back at the camper with Wolverine, Rorschach smiled sadly underneath his mask. He shook his head, saying, "No. Cannot ride. Will not ride."

Logan turned off the ignition on his motorcycle and stood up. "Are you kidding?" he said. When the masked vigilante did not respond, Logan got even angrier. "Damn, what kind of a freak are you? First you don't know what a mutant is, and now you won't even ride a motorcycle. I don't get you." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I don't even know why I'm letting you help me in the first place."

"Because you need my help, and you know it," the other man pointed out.

Wolverine grimaced at the vigilante. "Fine, then. What's your bright idea, smart ass?"

Rorschach held up a purple-gloved thumb and waved it sideways. "Hitch-hike."

"Hitch-hike? My god, this isn't the sixties? You can't just hitch-hike?" Actually, Logan had hitch-hiked plenty of times, but he wasn't going to go tramping about with this guy. He put his hand on his forehead. "I've got an idea. I can ride my bike, and since you're such a wuss, _you_ can hitch-hike." Wolverine hopped back on his bike. "Meet me at the Motel Pomerta on Eighth Street, if you can." He revved his engine. "I'll be seeing ya there." Logan sped off onto the freeway.

Rorschach sighed. He went back into the X-Man's camper and took off his mask and trenchcoat. It was going to be a long day.

**A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed and put this story on alerts/favorites/etc. Please review!**


	4. Deadpool

It was busy as usual as Deadpool sped down the freeway in a red pickup truck. The afternoon sun shown brightly, but Deadpool was too busy whistling "Old McDonald" to notice.

After whistling several rounds of the song, the mercenary got bored and began talking to himself. "Ooo! Radio!" he said excitedly, taking both hands off the wheel to turn it on, only to realize that it was broken. "Whoops! I forgot that I smashed it last time during a traffic jam! Oh well!" He then began rifling through the glove box. "Candy, gunpowder, spent bullets...candy!" Deadpool grabbed the candy, spilling the other items in the glove box and swerving. Several cars beeped at him. He stuck a piece of candy in his mouth. Discovering it to be stale, he threw it out the window, where it hit and cracked another driver's windshield. "Ooops, sorrrry!" the mercenary cried out the window.

Up ahead, he saw a man on the side of the road. The homely man had his thumb stuck out.

Deadpool rubbed his chin mystically, as though scratching an imaginary beard. "Yes, I suppose that might be true. I bet this guy is the main character!" He laughed manically. "So I'd better pick him up. After all, what's a story without ME in it?" The merc with a mouth wrinkled his nose. "And besides that, he might know something about Wolverine." Following many hours of bothering the X-Men, he had figured out that Wolverine had headed down here to Texas. But they wouldn't tell him why exactly Logan was here. And he was dying to find out. Plus, he had a bone to pick with his "favorite" X-Man.

The hitchhiker in question was of medium-height and muscular, with orange hair that could pale a construction cone. He put his thumb down as Deadpool reached over and opened the passenger-side door. "Well, come in, main character! Don't be shy!"

The man crinkled his brows in confusion. "I didn't catch that."

"Aw, never mind. What's your name?"

The stranger shook his head slightly and remained silent.

"Fine. You know, I actually like the quiet and homely type. As for me," he said, pointing at himself with a flourish, "you can call _me_ Deadpool."

"Hmm, interesting. Take me to the Motel Pomerta?"

Well, _this _guy wasn't wasting any time. "Don't worry, I'll take you to your destination! Deadpool's Cab Service NEVER fails." He tipped an imaginary hat.

The orange-haired man stared at him blankly, clearing his throat and saying, "It would be good if you could start the engine."

Deadpool pouted underneath his mask. "Aw, you don't want to play any games? Not even Parcheesi? I LOVE Parcheesi."

"No. Can we get moving?"

The mercenary's voice gained a dark tone. "Fine, be a party pooper. See if I care." Deadpool pulled off the side of the freeway, pressing the gas pedal to the floor. The tires sounded like screaming kittens as the rubber burned on the asphalt. "I'll get you to your destination, all right. We'll be lucky if we get there alive, though."

The stranger said nothing.

Though Deadpool had driven like a bat out of hell, Rorschach had safely been dropped off about half a mile from the motel at his own request. At least the driver of the pickup had stopped his drabbling when Walter made his motives clear. Although at the end of the trip, Deadpool had insisted on a tip. Not knowing whether he was joking or not, the vigilante gave his "cabby" several dollars.

Walter had put his face on behind an empty building and was now walking to meet Wolverine. He wondered if his friend would be already at his motel room. That was a very good possibility. After all, it was five o'clock in the evening, and they had parted at ten that morning.

It had taken Rorschach a long time to get himself a ride. Long, tiring hours of standing on the side of the road sticking his thumb out had left him tired and exhausted. He knew, however, that it would only take a few hours of sleep for him to get his energy back.

Then it would be time to get to work.

He had no idea what he was going to do once he had helped out Logan, but just serving justice to criminals again was going to feel good. Already he felt a little tingling of excitement.

Rorschach pulled his trenchcoat closer to himself. A cool breeze was blowing, whipping his trenchcoat around and almost pulling the fedora off his head. It was rather chilly for this time of year, especially for Texas...

A red-and-black blur dashed out from behind a large tree. Upon collecting his "tip," Deadpool had ditched his red truck and stealthily followed the stranger. The mercenary had watched as Walter had put on his face and walked away... He had been right all along.

A weirdo this strange could be none other than the main character.

And Deadpool was about to find what this guy was up to...

The half-crazy mercenary began walking silently behind the stranger, getting so close as to almost touch him. Just as he was about to take the man off-guard, he turned around and grabbed Deadpool's arm with a purple-gloved hand. "Why did you follow me?" Rorschach demanded gruffly.

Deadpool looked at Rorschach's hand, then his trenchcoat, his swirling mask, and fedora. He pulled out a katana from the hilt on his back with his free hand and slammed it into the gloved hand. "Rock, paper, scissors," he said gleefully. Deadpool slid the katana up to Rorschach's neck. "Scissors always win," he hissed seriously.

His hands now free, Rorschach took Deadpool off-guard and kicked him in his balls with his foot. As the mercenary knelt in sudden pain, the katana he had been holding clattered to the ground. Rorschach picked it up, cocking his head as he examined it. "Hurm, interesting." He threw it back on the ground. "Not very effective, though."

Deadpool grimaced under his mask and slowly got up. "Boy, did you ever get lucky," he said in a pained voice.

The stranger with the swirling black-and-white mask glared at him. "Not luck. Skill. Now why did you follow me?"

Deadpool pointed a finger at Rorschach. "Hey! I should be asking YOU the questions, not the other way around! For example, why do you have a taco on your face?"

"Taco on my face?..." the other said. Then he realized that Deadpool was talking about his face. "Oh. Haha."

Deadpool picked up his katana. "So are you a so-called hero? What's your role?"

"Role? You make no sense."

"Aw, never mind. We both know that _you_ know where Wolverine is, so why don't you take me to him?"

Rorschach shrugged. "Why should I? You attacked me. That gives me no reason to help you." He began walking away. Deadpool began walking rapidly beside him.

"I'm just going to follow you anyway," the merc with a mouth grinned.

"Hurm," the other replied. "Fine. As long as no one is hurt."

"Oh, I won't hurt _you_," he replied viciously. "When I meet up with Wolverine though... boy am I going to rip _him_ a new asshole. Thinks he can hide from me, can he?" the mercenary said, talking to himself now. "Well, that clawed freak's got another thing comin'."

Rorschach blatantly ignored him, so Deadpool just muttered incoherent words, growing quite bored with the other hero's unresponsiveness.

They walked this way for some time until they reached, on the side of the road, an adobe brick building with columns. A blinking red sign next to the road informed them that this was the "Motel Pomerta." It also informed them that there were vacancies and free breakfast.

Rorschach looked at the sign. "Hurm. Here we are."

"He's probably in the hotel room already. Let's check in." They both entered the motel. The sight of the two vigilantes scared the half-asleep desk clerk wide-awake. "What room is Logan staying at?" Deadpool said menacingly.

A few minutes later, Rorschach found himself knocking on Wolverine's room. The X-Man was quite surprised to see his "favorite" ninja standing there. He smacked himself on the head. "Oh, Wade. What the hell are you doin' here? I got my own problems without you messing everything up."

"Hurm." Walter looked from the mercenary to Logan and realized that the two must have a deep past.

"You know what I'm here about, Logan. You botched my mission!" Deadpool came into the room and pulled out a katana. "And you're going to pay for that."

Wolverine sighed, an irritated scowl forming on his lips. "Dammit all, that was weeks ago. Besides, both you and I know that I did the right thing. If you'd succeeded, there would have been serious hell to pay."

"I know. And maybe I don't care."

Rorschach cleared his throat. "Please. No fighting. No blood is necessary to be shed."

Deadpool snorted, giving the other masked vigilante a glare behind his mask. "I don't have to listen to what you say," he twirled his katana, "Taco-face." With that, he rushed at Wolverine, stabbing him with the sword.

Wolverine stared at the sword sticking out of his stomach. "You should know better than to try that," he said. He pulled out the katana out of his skin effortlessly. The wound was already beginning to heal. "This is pointless, Wade," he growled. "You know we won't be able to kill each other."

Deadpool huffed. "Fine. Forget it. But I just want you to know – I hate you and I will always hate you and I will NEVER lend you money to buy cheese puffs." The mercenary stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. But then he popped back in the room. "And to all you readers out there – I'll be baaaaaaaaaack!"

The door slammed again as Rorschach took a seat on one of the beds. "Is he delusional?"

"Very," Wolverine growled. "He believes we're all part of a bigger plan. Like we're in a book that people that read or something. And he's very dangerous. I advise that you stay away from him."

"Hmmm, what a fascinating conspiracy theory..."

"Yeah, well, I didn't come down here to discuss conspiracy theories with you. Can we get to work?" He passed a map of the city to Rorschach.

"We should start here, here, and here, in the desolate crack streets. Places where slime are most likely to hang out.

"Places where people would know about slime."

**So Rorschach and Logan are off to the bars to pick fights! Yay! :D Things are going to get a lot more interesting from here on out. Especially when Rorschach's mission with Wolverine is finished. Thanks to Captain Deadpool for suggested the idea of Deadpool picking Walter up. This chapter would not exist without him! So thanks again. Thanks also to turtlegirl42, who wrote various bits and pieces of this chapter when I got stuck. A thank-you also to everyone who has reviewed/story-favorited/story-alerted this bold crossover. Also, as a final note, I have never written Deadpool before... so bear with me if our favorite merc with a mouth is a bit OOC. Though I think I have him nailed... Please review!**


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